Status: squeak.
Vermin
the plague of tomorrow
We’re the vermin of life.
Askew in planet Earth, we’re known as the consumers - the plague. We’re famished little mice squirming under society’s expectations. Morale and ethics feeding us crumb by crumb. We can’t be animals, we can’t be beasts. We’re too weak to be a lion, and too ensnared to be a bird. We’re in a cage, slowly ebbing away into memories. Nobody will remember the little white mouse that hid in the corner, or the plump little squirrel that ran around the sycamore tree. We’re as dispensable as a sigh. We’re as forgettable as a blink of an eye. We’re tiny parasites eating each other, spoiled little cannibals lopping off heads. One by one, we fall and we die. Forgettable little mice that drop into the pit of memories. We reproduce, we live, we die – and not in that precise order. And after we wriggle and writhe, twist and turn, struggle and howl – we snap.
We want to be liberated from it all.
Askew in planet Earth, we’re known as the consumers - the plague. We’re famished little mice squirming under society’s expectations. Morale and ethics feeding us crumb by crumb. We can’t be animals, we can’t be beasts. We’re too weak to be a lion, and too ensnared to be a bird. We’re in a cage, slowly ebbing away into memories. Nobody will remember the little white mouse that hid in the corner, or the plump little squirrel that ran around the sycamore tree. We’re as dispensable as a sigh. We’re as forgettable as a blink of an eye. We’re tiny parasites eating each other, spoiled little cannibals lopping off heads. One by one, we fall and we die. Forgettable little mice that drop into the pit of memories. We reproduce, we live, we die – and not in that precise order. And after we wriggle and writhe, twist and turn, struggle and howl – we snap.
We want to be liberated from it all.